BROKEN WINGS (m. yanderes x reader)

VIII- conflicting emotions

As usual, Aaron's day hadn't started exactly how he had hoped it would.

Though he should have been used to this kind of morning by now. It was the same every day. His father asleep on the couch, blond hair dishevelled and dried tears creating a path down his hollowed cheeks.

Aaron couldn't remember the last time he had seen his father eating a proper meal.

And much like every time Aaron had caught his father in such a state, the older man was holding onto a portrait of his wife, Aaron's mother.

She was smiling at the camera and holding him in her arms. Aaron was nothing but a child in the picture and had been smiling too.

His heart winced in his chest as his eyes fell upon his mother's features.

They shared the same smile, same charcoal eyes. Her face was his own, the only thing Aaron had inherited from his father being his blond locks. And there once was a time when he had considered this resemblance to his mother a gift, she was a beautiful woman after all.

However this had quickly turned into a curse after her death. One Aaron knew he'd never be able to break away from. It's not like he could change the traits he had been born with after all.

The day his mother had died, Aaron had lost both his parents. And himself.

He didn't know what hurt the most though. The fact he had just lost his mother in a car crash his own father had caused, the fact he himself had narrowly escaped death, or the way his father's loving eyes had slowly turned away from him, unable to look at his son.

And at first Aaron didn't understand. Didn't understand why his father wouldn't face him, look him in the eyes and acknowledge his presence.

Shouldn't he have been happy that his son survived? Shouldn't he have cared for him and supported him in the face of loss?

But when his father, in his drunken state, had looked at Aaron and pronounced his mother's name, Aaron had known.

He had become nothing more than the shadow of his mother. A sour reminder for his father that his one and only love had died by his own hands.

So maybe the reason Aaron's father wouldn't look at him wasn't because he didn't love him anymore, but because every time he did there was no escaping the nauseating wave of guilt that crashed over him.

Aaron walked over to the coffee table, picking up the empty bottles his father had downed the night before. It reeked of liquor, a scent Aaron had long grown to hate.

There was a time Aaron resented his father.

For retreating into his old addiction, the very same addiction that had led to the death of his mother. But above all he resented his father for not being there for him when he needed him the most. For not being there for him when Aaron spent nights crying alone in his bed, for leaving him alone with his grief and loss. With the traumatic memories of this night that had changed it all.

He too had lost someone dear to him. He had lost his mother. And in that moment, Aaron had needed his father more than ever. But he hadn't been present, too drunk to even acknowledge his son.

Overtime Aaron came to pity his father more than he hated him though.

Because although Aaron had lost his mother, it hadn't been his fault. He only had his grief to deal with. His father on the other hand, not only had to come to terms with the fact his wife was dead, but also the fact he had been the one responsible for her death and his son's misfortune.

A pretty heavy load to carry.

And Aaron wondered if his father drowning himself in alcohol bottles wasn't his way of not only forgetting but also punishing himself for what he had done.